Some people would have it to be that the thing happened at the house opposite, belonging to one Childs, with whose family the Swetmans afterwards intermarried. But that it was at the original homestead of the Swetmans can be shown in various ways; chiefly by the unbroken traditions of the family, and indirectly4 by the evidence of the walls themselves, which are the only ones thereabout with windows mullioned in the Elizabethan manner, and plainly of a date anterior5 to the event; while those of the other house might well have been erected6 fifty or eighty years later, and probably were; since the choice of Swetman’s house by the fugitive7 was doubtless dictated8 by no other circumstance than its then suitable loneliness.
It was a cloudy July morning just before dawn, the hour of two having been struck by Swetman’s one-handed clock on the stairs, that is still preserved in the family. Christopher heard the strokes from his chamber9, immediately at the top of the staircase, and overlooking the front of the house. He did not wonder that he was sleepless11. The rumours13 and excitements which had latterly stirred the neighbourhood, to the effect that the rightful King of England had landed from Holland, at a port only eighteen miles to the south-west of Swetman’s house, were enough to make wakeful and anxious even a contented14 yeoman like him. Some of the villagers, intoxicated15 by the news, had thrown down their scythes16, and rushed to the ranks of the invader17. Christopher Swetman had weighed both sides of the question, and had remained at home.
Now as he lay thinking of these and other things he fancied that he could hear the footfall of a man on the road leading up to his house—a byway, which led scarce anywhere else; and therefore a tread was at any time more apt to startle the inmates18 of the homestead than if it had stood in a thoroughfare. The footfall came opposite the gate, and stopped there. One minute, two minutes passed, and the pedestrian did not proceed. Christopher Swetman got out of bed, and opened the casement19. ‘Hoi! who’s there?’ cries he.
‘A friend,’ came from the darkness.
‘Shelter. I’ve lost my way.’
‘What’s thy name?’
There came no answer.
‘Be ye one of King Monmouth’s men?’
‘He that asks no questions will hear no lies from me. I am a stranger; and I am spent, and hungered. Can you let me lie with you to-night?’
Swetman was generous to people in trouble, and his house was roomy. ‘Wait a bit,’ he said, ‘and I’ll come down and have a look at thee, anyhow.’
He struck a light, put on his clothes, and descended21, taking his horn-lantern from a nail in the passage, and lighting22 it before opening the door. The rays fell on the form of a tall, dark man in cavalry23 accoutrements and wearing a sword. He was pale with fatigue24 and covered with mud, though the weather was dry.
That his visitor was in sore distress26 admitted of no doubt, and the yeoman’s natural humanity assisted the other’s sad importunity27 and gentle voice. Swetman took him in, not without a suspicion that this man represented in some way Monmouth’s cause, to which he was not unfriendly in his secret heart. At his earnest request the new-comer was given a suit of the yeoman’s old clothes in exchange for his own, which, with his sword, were hidden in a closet in Swetman’s chamber; food was then put before him and a lodging28 provided for him in a room at the back.
Here he slept till quite late in the morning, which was Sunday, the sixth of July, and when he came down in the garments that he had borrowed he met the household with a melancholy29 smile. Besides Swetman himself, there were only his two daughters, Grace and Leonard (the latter was, oddly enough, a woman’s name here), and both had been enjoined30 to secrecy31. They asked no questions and received no information; though the stranger regarded their fair countenances32 with an interest almost too deep. Having partaken of their usual breakfast of ham and cider he professed33 weariness and retired34 to the chamber whence he had come.
In a couple of hours or thereabout he came down again, the two young women having now gone off to morning service. Seeing Christopher bustling35 about the house without assistance, he asked if he could do anything to aid his host.
As he seemed anxious to hide all differences and appear as one of themselves, Swetman set him to get vegetables from the garden and fetch water from Buttock’s Spring in the dip near the house (though the spring was not called by that name till years after, by the way).
‘And what can I do next?’ says the stranger when these services had been performed.
His meekness36 and docility37 struck Christopher much, and won upon him. ‘Since you be minded to,’ says the latter, ‘you can take down the dishes and spread the table for dinner. Take a pewter plate for thyself, but the trenchers will do for we.’
But the other would not, and took a trencher likewise, in doing which he spoke38 of the two girls and remarked how comely39 they were.
This quietude was put an end to by a stir out of doors, which was sufficient to draw Swetman’s attention to it, and he went out. Farm hands who had gone off and joined the Duke on his arrival had begun to come in with news that a midnight battle had been fought on the moors40 to the north, the Duke’s men, who had attacked, being entirely41 worsted; the Duke himself, with one or two lords and other friends, had fled, no one knew whither.
‘There has been a battle,’ says Swetman, on coming indoors after these tidings, and looking earnestly at the stranger.
‘May the victory be to the rightful in the end, whatever the issue now,’ says the other, with a sorrowful sigh.
‘Dost really know nothing about it?’ said Christopher. ‘I could have sworn you was one from that very battle!’
‘I was here before three o’ the clock this morning; and these men have only arrived now.’
‘True,’ said the yeoman. ‘But still, I think—’
‘Do not press your question,’ the stranger urged. ‘I am in a strait, and can refuse a helper nothing; such inquiry42 is, therefore, unfair.’
‘True again,’ said Swetman, and held his tongue.
The daughters of the house returned from church, where the service had been hurried by reason of the excitement. To their father’s questioning if they had spoken of him who sojourned there they replied that they had said never a word; which, indeed, was true, as events proved.
He bade them serve the dinner; and, as the visitor had withdrawn43 since the news of the battle, prepared to take a platter to him upstairs. But he preferred to come down and dine with the family.
During the afternoon more fugitives44 passed through the village, but Christopher Swetman, his visitor, and his family kept indoors. In the evening, however, Swetman came out from his gate, and, harkening in silence to these tidings and more, wondered what might be in store for him for his last night’s work.
He returned homeward by a path across the mead45 that skirted his own orchard46. Passing here, he heard the voice of his daughter Leonard expostulating inside the hedge, her words being: ‘Don’t ye, sir; don’t! I prithee let me go!’
‘Why, sweetheart?’
‘Because I’ve a-promised another!’
Peeping through, as he could not help doing, he saw the girl struggling in the arms of the stranger, who was attempting to kiss her; but finding her resistance to be genuine, and her distress unfeigned, he reluctantly let her go.
Swetman’s face grew dark, for his girls were more to him than himself. He hastened on, meditating47 moodily48 all the way. He entered the gate, and made straight for the orchard. When he reached it his daughter had disappeared, but the stranger was still standing49 there.
‘Sir!’ said the yeoman, his anger having in no wise abated50, ‘I’ve seen what has happened! I have taken ’ee into my house, at some jeopardy51 to myself; and, whoever you be, the least I expected of ’ee was to treat the maidens52 with a seemly respect. You have not done it, and I no longer trust you. I am the more watchful53 over them in that they are motherless; and I must ask ’ee to go after dark this night!’
The stranger seemed dazed at discovering what his impulse had brought down upon his head, and his pale face grew paler. He did not reply for a time. When he did speak his soft voice was thick with feeling.
‘Sir,’ says he, ‘I own that I am in the wrong, if you take the matter gravely. We do not what we would but what we must. Though I have not injured your daughter as a woman, I have been treacherous54 to her as a hostess and friend in need. I’ll go, as you say; I can do no less. I shall doubtless find a refuge elsewhere.’
They walked towards the house in silence, where Swetman insisted that his guest should have supper before departing. By the time this was eaten it was dusk and the stranger announced that he was ready.
They went upstairs to where the garments and sword lay hidden, till the departing one said that on further thought he would ask another favour: that he should be allowed to retain the clothes he wore, and that his host would keep the others and the sword till he, the speaker, should come or send for them.
‘As you will,’ said Swetman. ‘The gain is on my side; for those clouts55 were but kept to dress a scarecrow next fall.’
‘They suit my case,’ said the stranger sadly. ‘However much they may misfit me, they do not misfit my sorry fortune now!’
But the other would not, saying that it was better that things should take their course. Notwithstanding that Swetman importuned57 him, he only added, ‘If I never come again, do with my belongings58 as you list. In the pocket you will find a gold snuff-box, and in the snuff-box fifty gold pieces.’
‘But keep ’em for thy use, man!’ said the yeoman.
‘No,’ says the parting guest; ‘they are foreign pieces and would harm me if I were taken. Do as I bid thee. Put away these things again and take especial charge of the sword. It belonged to my father’s father and I value it much. But something more common becomes me now.’
Saying which, he took, as he went downstairs, one of the ash sticks used by Swetman himself for walking with. The yeoman lighted him out to the garden hatch, where he disappeared through Clammers Gate by the road that crosses King’s-Hintock Park to Evershead.
Christopher returned to the upstairs chamber, and sat down on his bed reflecting. Then he examined the things left behind, and surely enough in one of the pockets the gold snuff-box was revealed, containing the fifty gold pieces as stated by the fugitive. The yeoman next looked at the sword which its owner had stated to have belonged to his grandfather. It was two-edged, so that he almost feared to handle it. On the blade was inscribed59 the words ‘ANDREA FERARA,’ and among the many fine chasings were a rose and crown, the plume60 of the Prince of Wales, and two portraits; portraits of a man and a woman, the man’s having the face of the first King Charles, and the woman’s, apparently61, that of his Queen.
Swetman, much awed62 and surprised, returned the articles to the closet, and went downstairs pondering. Of his surmise63 he said nothing to his daughters, merely declaring to them that the gentleman was gone; and never revealing that he had been an eye-witness of the unpleasant scene in the orchard that was the immediate10 cause of the departure.
Nothing occurred in Hintock during the week that followed, beyond the fitful arrival of more decided64 tidings concerning the utter defeat of the Duke’s army and his own disappearance65 at an early stage of the battle. Then it was told that Monmouth was taken, not in his own clothes but in the disguise of a countryman. He had been sent to London, and was confined in the Tower.
The possibility that his guest had been no other than the Duke made Swetman unspeakably sorry now; his heart smote66 him at the thought that, acting67 so harshly for such a small breach68 of good faith, he might have been the means of forwarding the unhappy fugitive’s capture. On the girls coming up to him he said, ‘Get away with ye, wenches: I fear you have been the ruin of an unfortunate man!’
On the Tuesday night following, when the yeoman was sleeping as usual in his chamber, he was, he said, conscious of the entry of some one. Opening his eyes, he beheld69 by the light of the moon, which shone upon the front of his house, the figure of a man who seemed to be the stranger moving from the door towards the closet. He was dressed somewhat differently now, but the face was quite that of his late guest in its tragical70 pensiveness71, as was also the tallness of his figure. He neared the closet; and, feeling his visitor to be within his rights, Christopher refrained from stirring. The personage turned his large haggard eyes upon the bed where Swetman lay, and then withdrew from their hiding the articles that belonged to him, again giving a hard gaze at Christopher as he went noiselessly out of the chamber with his properties on his arm. His retreat down the stairs was just audible, and also his departure by the side door, through which entrance or exit was easy to those who knew the place.
Nothing further happened, and towards morning Swetman slept. To avoid all risk he said not a word to the girls of the visit of the night, and certainly not to any one outside the house; for it was dangerous at that time to avow72 anything.
Among the killed in opposing the recent rising had been a younger brother of the lord of the manor, who lived at King’s-Hintock Court hard by. Seeing the latter ride past in mourning clothes next day, Swetman ventured to condole73 with him.
‘He’d no business there!’ answered the other. His words and manner showed the bitterness that was mingled74 with his regret. ‘But say no more of him. You know what has happened since, I suppose?’
‘I know that they say Monmouth is taken, Sir Thomas, but I can’t think it true,’ answered Swetman.
‘O zounds! ’tis true enough,’ cried the knight75, ‘and that’s not all. The Duke was executed on Tower Hill two days ago.’
‘D’ye say it verily?’ says Swetman.
‘And a very hard death he had, worse luck for ‘n,’ said Sir Thomas. ‘Well, ’tis over for him and over for my brother. But not for the rest. There’ll be searchings and siftings down here anon; and happy is the man who has had nothing to do with this matter!’
Now Swetman had hardly heard the latter words, so much was he confounded by the strangeness of the tidings that the Duke had come to his death on the previous Tuesday. For it had been only the night before this present day of Friday that he had seen his former guest, whom he had ceased to doubt could be other than the Duke, come into his chamber and fetch away his accoutrements as he had promised.
‘It couldn’t have been a vision,’ said Christopher to himself when the knight had ridden on. ‘But I’ll go straight and see if the things be in the closet still; and thus I shall surely learn if ’twere a vision or no.’
To the closet he went, which he had not looked into since the stranger’s departure. And searching behind the articles placed to conceal76 the things hidden, he found that, as he had never doubted, they were gone.
When the rumour12 spread abroad in the West that the man beheaded in the Tower was not indeed the Duke, but one of his officers taken after the battle, and that the Duke had been assisted to escape out of the country, Swetman found in it an explanation of what so deeply mystified him. That his visitor might have been a friend of the Duke’s, whom the Duke had asked to fetch the things in a last request, Swetman would never admit. His belief in the rumour that Monmouth lived, like that of thousands of others, continued to the end of his days.
Such, briefly77, concluded my kinsman, is the tradition which has been handed down in Christopher Swetman’s family for the last two hundred years.
该作者的其它作品
《Tess of the D‘Urbervilles德伯家的苔丝》
《韦塞克斯的故事 Wessex Tales》
《远离尘嚣 Far from the madding crowd》
《绿茵树下 Under the Greenwood Tree》
该作者的其它作品
《Tess of the D‘Urbervilles德伯家的苔丝》
《韦塞克斯的故事 Wessex Tales》
《远离尘嚣 Far from the madding crowd》
《绿茵树下 Under the Greenwood Tree》
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
kinsman
|
|
| n.男亲属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
outskirts
|
|
| n.郊外，郊区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
manor
|
|
| n.庄园，领地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
indirectly
|
|
| adv.间接地，不直接了当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
anterior
|
|
| adj.较早的；在前的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
ERECTED
|
|
| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
fugitive
|
|
| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
dictated
|
|
| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
sleepless
|
|
| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
rumour
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
rumours
|
|
| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
intoxicated
|
|
| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
scythes
|
|
| n.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的名词复数 )v.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
invader
|
|
| n.侵略者，侵犯者，入侵者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
inmates
|
|
| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
casement
|
|
| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
mid
|
|
| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
lighting
|
|
| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
cavalry
|
|
| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
fatigue
|
|
| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
importunity
|
|
| n.硬要，强求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
lodging
|
|
| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
enjoined
|
|
| v.命令( enjoin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
countenances
|
|
| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
bustling
|
|
| adj.喧闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
meekness
|
|
| n.温顺，柔和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
docility
|
|
| n.容易教，易驾驶，驯服 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
comely
|
|
| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
moors
|
|
| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
fugitives
|
|
| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
mead
|
|
| n.蜂蜜酒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
orchard
|
|
| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
meditating
|
|
| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
moodily
|
|
| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
abated
|
|
| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
jeopardy
|
|
| n.危险；危难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
maidens
|
|
| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
watchful
|
|
| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
treacherous
|
|
| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
clouts
|
|
| n.猛打( clout的名词复数 )；敲打；（尤指政治上的）影响；（用手或硬物的）击v.（尤指用手）猛击，重打( clout的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
56
bide
|
|
| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
importuned
|
|
| v.纠缠，向（某人）不断要求( importune的过去式和过去分词 )；（妓女）拉（客） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
belongings
|
|
| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
inscribed
|
|
| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
plume
|
|
| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
awed
|
|
| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
surmise
|
|
| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
disappearance
|
|
| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
smote
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
breach
|
|
| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
tragical
|
|
| adj. 悲剧的, 悲剧性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
pensiveness
|
|
| n.pensive（沉思的）的变形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
avow
|
|
| v.承认，公开宣称 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
condole
|
|
| v.同情；慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |